November 10, 2019
For both sides of the American and Canadian borders, this week is for remembering our veterans. A few years ago, I watched with tears the D-Day commemoration ceremonies, attended by those who had lived to survive WW II. I wrote this poem for that occasion.
The Faces of Freedom
Once you were young,
And fought dense fog,
Cold waves, hard rain,
Your uniforms all torn and muddy.
Now you are old,
Your uniforms all clean and pressed,
With medals marking every chest,
Seal memories there.
Once you were young,
And watched friends fall,
So brave but broken
To the ground beside you.
Now you are old,
And see your comrades love to live
Courageously, and want to give
The fallen praise.
Once you were young,
And saw gray skies burst orange,
Blue waves, brown dust turn red
As life drained out.
Now you are old,
The skies are quiet over land,
The waves lap gently on the sand,
And grass grows green.
Once you were young,
And heard the cries for help,
Amid staccato bullet sounds,
You marched with steady steps.
Now you are old,
And time has slowed your willing feet,
But hearts with patriotic beat
Are swift to sing.
Once you were young,
And felt applauded for your sacrifice,
Honored for your service,
Loved for your work.
Now you are old,
And hear those who have lived in peace
Proclaim that war completely cease;
We all want this.
But we must realize
That sometimes – yes, sometimes –
The purchase price of peace
Is war.
We see your faces now,
You could not see our faces then,
But chose the fight of freedom
For generations yet unborn.
We thank you. ©2004 Linda Neff
